Watchet to West Bay, a road cycling adventure! (Part one, Dorchester to Watchet).
A Coast to Coast ride was being mooted in my cycling club, my ears pricked up as I thought ‘that sounds fun’! An encouraging conversation with Mike ensued, I went online and booked two tickets. Great, something new to look forward to. The bus transport up to Watchet, however, had sold out. No worries I thought, we’ll work something out, couldn’t be that difficult, surely?
Feeling dubious about this and then also unconvinced we’d done enough training, decided to try and sell tickets. No success, I thought about one of my Mother’s favourite sayings ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’, perhaps there could be?
Considering the various public transport options, noting we could get the train to Taunton easily enough, I decided to give the station a call, it would be a good idea to double check the bike storage.
Contacting the customer help line involved talking to an actual human, this is where the benefit of being able to speak to a real person with local knowledge saved the day!
The gentleman on the end of the line was extremely helpful, not only reassuring me bike storage wasn’t an issue, added although it wasn’t possible to take their train to Watchet, there was a little privately run railway that did, The West Somerset Railway;
http://www.wsr.org.uk/bishopslydeard.htm
and it was only a 3 mile bike ride. Bingo!
Train plan in place, search for an air B&B came next, finding a lovely little apartment with a sea view, perfect! I envisaged a cheeky glass of wine on the balcony as we watched the sun go down. Booked through the app, all very easy so far. Too easy perhaps?
On the morning of the day before the ride, we were up early, peddling towards Dorchester West station with our kit in rucksacks, walked our bikes up the steps and across the bridge and jumped on the train, digging out our home brew coffee flasks before settling in to our seats with excited thoughts of what the ride would entail the following day.
We arrived at our change over stop, Castle Cary. Collected our bikes and as we walked out on to the platform noticed the breakfast van was shut so decided to cycle the short ten minute ride into the village to see what we could find in the way of sustenance.
It was a pleasant sunlit morning, walking along the empty pavements, we passed a few cafes and restaurants, nothing open yet, it was almost 8:30am and I was feeling peckish. Noticing some brightly clad cyclists chatting at a junction, we went up to say ‘hello’ and pick their brains.
They were a friendly group, about to start their weekly ride, who keenly recommended ‘The Somerset Wine Co’, suggesting it was good for a bite to eat as they had a Deli, and should be open soon.
As we passed attractive honey stone coloured buildings, thankfully saw the welcoming yellow door wedged open, we went in, looking around at the many, many bottles of wine on show and in storage.
That was before we even got to the gins, and had to remind ourselves we couldn’t really carry wine on our bike ride, well perhaps we could, as long as we drank it that evening... You know what happened next.
Our wide eyes were then drawn back to our stomachs and breakfast. A small but interesting counter, full of delights; cheeses and meats. I noticed Greek yogurt and muesli in the fridge so plumped for that, it was deliciously creamy and quite filling. Mike went for the homemade sausage roll, served with a lovely side salad, which did look very appetising served on a wooden board.
Our palettes satisfied, we ordered two large lattes and sat in the pretty little window seat with the sun streaming in. Our view out to the market square had suddenly become a hive of activity.
Busy villagers were turning up, en masse, enthusiastically hanging bunting and setting lots of chairs out for some event that looked like was happening soon.
It felt like we could have been in France, perhaps it was just that real sense of being on holiday and enjoying the people watching, assisted by the warmth of the rays, we were definitely feeling relaxed!
Having demolished our breakfasts, Mike buried the wine safely in the middle of his rucksack, and we headed back to the station for the second leg. We waited and waited... train was almost 45 mins late. This gave us time to chat to a couple of people to find out where they were headed, and enjoy more people watching, a pleasant past time in the sunshine at least.
So from Taunton to Bishops Lydeard we went, and from Bishops Lydeard to Dunster, a total of 8 stops.
The delay meant we wouldn’t be able to take the steam train, I was disappointed to miss a nostalgic ride, with all the associated smells and sounds, but the diesel was almost as good and was our only option.
I’d planned the slight detour to stunning Dunster Castle as I’d wanted to take Mike and revisit, having happy memories of taking my 3 children there for a pirate egg hunt many years ago. We made it, and it didn’t underwhelm.
We annoyingly made a mistake and got off a stop too early at Washford though, resulting in us having to cycle on the busy A39 for a few miles to Dunster, a hairy experience and not one I’d relish repeating.
Dunster Castle
The sight of the castle was impressive as we approached and the attractive grounds and amazing views were worth it. The flour mill was in full working order and supplied artisan bakeries in the vicinity.
Although, having to book into the B&B meant we didn’t have very long to enjoy the surroundings, we savoured our short time there, soaking up the history ambience, and views.
After the short ride to Dunster railway station, there was a second delay which was annoying but we couldn’t do anything about it, so chilled, chatted to other passengers and did a bit of owl spotting too!
Finally aboard!
Jumping on the volunteer run train again, and slinging our heavy back backs (with all our cycling gear for the following day) onto the over-head racks, we made ourselves comfy in the slightly rough fabric, stale smelling covered seats for the relatively short journey to our over night accommodation. Once there we’d dump our kit and make our way to the restaurant for our evening meal.
While we were on the train from Dunster to Watchet, we chatted to a lovely couple from Coventry who happened to be staying in Watchet, where they told us, much to Mike’s envy, they were booked in for a curry at The Spice Merchant that evening! We laughed as I told them Mike had wanted curry, but I’d insisted that wasn’t a good idea the night before a big ride, so we were going for carb loading at an English restaurant, with good trip advisor reviews.
As our final train trip neared its end, I’d started to get several text messages from the land lady of our accommodation, as evidently she needed to let us in to the apartment, and by that time (two train delays) we were an hour or more late. I detected she was not best pleased. Mike said ‘right we need to go and grab our bikes’ as our stop was approaching we stood up said our goodbyes to the Coventry couple, grabbed our bikes, lifting them carefully onto the platform, minding the gap.
As Mike’s phone was almost flat, I texted our host to say we’d arrived, and just as I did so the train chuffed away… with our bags still on the racks! Nooooo! Horror and panic started to set in! It was gone 6:30pm, and I quickly googled opening hours of the private station; office closed at 5:30pm oh no! Mike said he’d stay and see if he could speak to someone, if I went to meet our, by this time, slightly more than distressed landlady.
With anxious host found, and somewhat pacified by my arrival, I was able to safely deposit my bag and bike, finally managing to shaking her off, (she had an annoying obsession with slipper wearing because of the cream carpets), to go and find Mike. Which was timely, as with an almost flat phone, he was struggling to use Google maps to find said B&B and was clearly relieved to see me.
He recounted he’d managed to speak with the train guard, who would try and locate our rucksacks and contact us to arrange collection. We’d have to wait.
Then followed many frantic suggestions on my part; ‘I can get a taxi really early to retrieve our bags before the ride starts’ and other rather unrealistic ideas that Mike instantly rejected, of how I might possibly get us out of this fix! Mike’s suggestion of starting late wasn’t what I wanted and would mean we’d miss cycling with everyone else and it would feel incredibly flat after the amazing day we’d had.
There followed several promising phone calls, with the final one, a volunteer called Bob, calling to let us know our rucksacks had been handed over to the Coventry couple. I jumped in the air exclaiming a big ‘yes’ loudly, immediately knowing we’d be able to collect them from them at the curry house! The grins instantly restored to our previously dimmed faces!
The lovely Coventry couple had realised we’d left our bags and explained to the guard they had sat with us on the train earlier, and as they were going to Watchet that evening, insisting they could get them to us! So the guard had handed them over, with a degree of reluctance, but what else could he do? What a stroke of luck for us!
After a quick freshen up in the bathroom (nothing to change into!), we headed into Watchet village to locate our restaurant and meet up with the lovely Coventry couple and our much needed back packs. Mike spotted the restaurant I’d thought would be a good option for carb loading. A big sign on the door said ‘Closed’! Typical I thought as we headed to The Spice Merchant…
If you’ve read this far, please leave a clap and feedback, thank you!